We were up once again at 7am, which is far too early for a holiday. But! We caught the 8am bus to Orange, about one hour outside of Avignon.
We were told that if you visit Provence and see just one site of ancient Roman antiquity, it must be Orange. This town is fascinating for so many reasons; it has just one of the three intact Roman amphitheater walls in the world (the other two being in Turkey and Syria), so much history, yet it is very untouristed. Go figure. More Roman relics for me!
So when I read about this intact wall, my thought was, "huh, so it's a wall." But then I saw it- imagine a ten-storey building, made of individual, hand-carried stones, running the length of two city streets (how's THAT for a "big, beautiful wall," Mr. Trumpster-Fire?). And then, surround it with seating for
about two thousand of your closest friends. And what's crazy is that this monstrosity just sits quietly across the street from a row of cafes and the town square. It felt a bit like an alien spaceship had landed in the middle of this quiet town, and the townspeople simply found a way to work around it.
Our guidebook slyly advised us to skip the 10 euro entry fee, and instead walk up to the top of the town's hill for a magnificent view of the amphitheater. So being cheap bastards who enjoy walking up rock-strewn, decrepit hills, we did. And it was amazing- the wall is so huge that it dwarfs the bigger-than-life-sized statue of Caesar Augustus, for whom this amphitheater was built. It is so ginormous that it makes the tourists inside it look like ants. And amazingly, this amphitheater is in vigorous use for festivals and plays (though sadly Matt's theatrical nemesis,
"The Phantom of the Opera," is its current offering). We marvelled at this relic of Roman antiquity, circa 80 BC, and the views over the countryside. And then we wisely got out of the freezing wind and into a cafe which offered my favorite snack, Cafe Gourmand- espresso with a teeny selection of teeny desserts. We proceeded to order our Cafe Gourmand at precisely the incorrect time of day, prompting the cafe's owner to inform us that we should probably have savory instead of sugar (we ignored her) (happily).
We caught the 1pm bus back to Avignon, and spent the day on a lovely walking tour through the medieval streets. The town is a stunning mix of medieval alleys, passages, and walls, set on the Rhone River with cafes galore. Given the destruction of France during WWII, this town is shockingly well preserved. In fact, its town symbol, the Pont d'Avignon (Avignon Bridge) is still sort-of standing after 800 years. I say "sort of" because the Rhone River washed away a third of it in the 17th century, and they never rebuilt it. It extends out into the river, and just ends. So fans of Sarah Palin, of which I hope there are exactly none, please know that a literal "Bridge To Nowhere" already exists in Avignon.
We spent the remainder of the late afternoon just relaxing with yet another bottle of Cote du Rhone. We had planned a late dinner, but we realized our fatal mistake when, at 9:30pm, all the cafes and bistros were closing for the night. Despite the fact it's Saturday night, it's also the night before Easter. Oops. The only restaurant who would take us was small French-Spanish tapas bar. So instead of duck or pigeon or snails, we had Spanish charcuterie and cheeses. And wine. You can't go too wrong with French wine.
Orange Is the New Avignon
Saturday, April 15, 2017
Avignon, Provence, France
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2025-02-10